


Buena Suerte

by BJackson



Series: Two Leapers [7]
Category: Quantum Leap
Genre: Comedy, F/M, Gen, vacation from hell
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-16
Updated: 2018-05-16
Packaged: 2019-05-07 18:46:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14677164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BJackson/pseuds/BJackson
Summary: A leap into Mexico seems like a good vacation until Sam and Al find themselves duped by two con women and on a drug kingpin's hit list.





	1. Chapter 1

     There were some leaps that begged for a vacation by the end, and Sam was desperate for a reprieve by the time their latest wrapped up. He was sure Al was ready for a break too after all that he’d been through, not the least of which was nearly jumping off a building. And Sam had fought hard to get everyone out alive, but too many people didn’t. He never took it well when someone died on a leap, but after a while, it became a necessity to be able to move forward knowing he’d done everything he could.

     But that comfort didn’t work this time, because he wasn’t sure he had. 

     The chill from the snow dissolved into a pleasant warmth. As the blue haze dissolved, Sam noticed something squished between his toes. He bent down to look. He was dressed in nothing but a bathing suit. His feet wiggled in the sand.

     He was standing on a beach, surrounded by a crowd of happy people swimming, drinking, and enjoying the shade of an umbrella. Behind them was a gorgeous resort, and sand stretched for miles next to a beautiful blue ocean. This was much nicer than any kind of leap-in Sam was used to. Maybe he’d grown a bit cynical, but he was waiting for the bad part to unceremoniously drop in.

     “Oh boy!” he heard Al exclaim. There it was. He turned around with a panic.

    Bedecked in a tacky Hawaiian shirt, sunglasses, and a straw hat, Al was sporting the biggest, happiest grin, a mojito in one hand and a model on the other.

     “Now  _this_  is my kind of leap!”

     Without thinking, Sam called out to him. “Al—” A beach ball whacked him in the head shortly before being retrieved by a giggling child with a mischievous grin. The surprise briefly staggered him.

     “Watch your noggin there, pal,” Al warned unnecessarily, although his eyes never left the model’s sizable chest. Sam glared at him.

     The woman giggled, pushing back her chestnut brown hair. Her high-waisted bikini suggested the 50s or 60s. “You two make me laugh.” She clasped Al’s arm with a sudden thought, her expensive jewelry jangling on her wrist. “Oh! I have to go find my sister, she’d just love you! Wait right here.” With that order, she pranced lightly across the sand, Al’s leering eyes following her every step of the way.

     With a familiar, very specific kind of irritation coming back to him, Sam trudged his way over to his drooling friend. A devilish grin flitted across his face. “Did you hear that, Sam?”

     “Al.”

     “Her _sister…_ ”

     “Al.”   

     “Heh?” At last tearing his gaze away, Al craned his head back to look at Sam.

     “What are you doing?”

     “What does it look like I’m doing? Enjoying the view…” Al turned his attention to another bit of eye candy strolling down the beach, lowering his shades.

     Sam’s head dropped back. “Can you at least keep your hormones in check long enough for us to figure out why we leaped in here? Someone could be in trouble while you’re _enjoying the view_.”

     “Who’s in trouble? No one’s in trouble.” Al waved his hand across the happy beachgoers, gesturing casually toward a nearby tower. “Look, see, there’s a lifeguard on duty. If a shark shows up, we know who to call.”

     “ _Al_.”

     Al’s neck disappeared, making him look very much like a turtle, as he raised his shoulders defensively. “Would you lighten up? Everything’s fine. When’s the last time we had to jump into action the second we leaped in?”

     Inside, Sam knew his uneasiness was stemming from guilt. Guilt which didn’t relate to Al’s sex drive or this woman and her sister. He wanted to be ready at all times, to be sure that this leap he saved everyone, to…to prove himself. But Al didn’t know that. All he knew was Sam was the thing standing between him and two pairs of bingo bango bongos, and it had been _far_ too long since he’d had access to any of those. Sam was too on edge to indulge Al’s overactive sex drive.

     But he’d made a fair point. GTFW didn’t make it a habit to expect them to solve something immediately after they’d arrived. Sam’s shoulders relaxed a little as he begrudgingly conceded.

     “Exactly. So, until Gooshie shows up so we can do what we gotta do, let’s just…” Al’s hand glided smoothly like a wave, “…take it easy.”

     Sam sighed tensely. He was still waiting for the other shoe to drop. “Yeah. Take it easy.”

     Al’s eyes slid to the side. Sam was being a real buzzkill. “This could just be the swiss cheese talking, but have you ever taken a real vacation?” Without waiting for an answer, he offhandedly wiggled a finger downward at him as his attention strayed toward the female persuasion again. “You look good in your little trunks, Sam.”

     Sam pursed his lips. Sometimes Al just said things to mess with him.

     The sound of familiar giggling had doubled, and their heads turned in sync to see the model...times two. Aside from her shorter hair, her sister was completely identical, and they were both eyeing the men before them like two kids in a candy store. The only thing separating this from one of Al’s fantasies was the presence of clothing.

     Immediately, Al’s jaw hit the sand. As far as he was concerned, this was the jackpot! Even Sam had trouble not staring. They were…quite ample.

     “Gee,” the sister said with a charming shrug of the shoulder, “Maria was right, you two look _scrumptious_.”

     “This is going to be so much fun,” Maria grinned, draping her arm around her sister as she looked them up and down, “We’ve never been with Americans before.”

     Were they out of the States? A surreptitious glance, and Sam noticed the crowd was primarily Hispanic with a smattering of white tourists. When he returned his attention to Al, a small puddle of saliva had begun to form underneath him.

     “Wait until you see my star-spangled banner…” Al breathed lasciviously to their chests. With a quick look at each other, the girls again laughed.

     Sam wasn’t convinced Al ever stopped being a teenager. “Would you excuse us please?” With a polite smile toward the girls, he took Al by the shoulders and directed him out of earshot.

     “ _Saaam…_ ”

     “Al, you can’t—”

     “Twins, Sam! _Twins_!” Al begged emphatically, “You know it’s been my lifelong dream to make it with twins! C’mon, don’t ruin this for me. For us. Look, they’re obviously into you too.”

     Sam’s face became a scowl. “I’m not gonna sleep with someone I don’t know.”

     “Why not?”

     “Why not? Because—because we’re not who they think we are!”

     “They don’t think we’re anyone, Sam,” Al pointed out, “You heard them, we just met. They don’t know us from Adam. So what’s it matter what we look like?”

     “It matters to me.” Sam had his feet in the sand, his arms flat at his sides, and, as Al would say, the posture of someone who had just gotten a swift kick in the ass.

     For whatever crazy reason Al couldn’t quite understand, Sam upheld himself to some sort of saintly principles. He really wasn’t trying to be a killjoy, he just genuinely wanted to do right. And that, Al supposed, was an admirable quality. But not ideal for a wingman. And, he could see from the way he was acting since they leaped in, Sam was letting something else bother him that was making him irritable.

     Al placed a soft but firm grip on his friend’s shoulder. “Listen, pal. I think both of us could use a break. Who knows? Maybe we were leaped in here to recharge after how _loony_ that last leap turned out.”

     Sam thought it over. This was already a thousand times better than their previous travel through time, and the warm summer sun _did_ feel nice. “Maybe…”

     He was in. “Yeah, maybe. And I know this flies in the face of your Boy Scout nature, but it’s not against any rules to just take a girl out and have a good time. No strings attached. We’re not tied to anyone back home,”—not that that had ever stopped Al before—“and they clearly want it too.”

     They weren’t tied to anyone back home. That was still hard for Sam to hear. It didn’t feel like it yet. But hearing Al say it out loud…it did start to sink in that being with a woman on a leap no longer made him unfaithful.

     Al could see Sam was still hesitant, but just barely his resolve was beginning to waver. “C’mon. You don’t have to sleep with anyone. We just spend the day with these ladies and see where the day takes us, huh? Try to have fun.” He tugged him playfully closer. “Remember fun, Sam?”

      Al should’ve been a lawyer. Sam finally gave in, even allowing a reluctant smile. He’d been a lone leaper for so long, maybe he should try things Al’s way for once. After all…they really weren’t hurting anyone. He still had no desire to sleep with a total stranger, but at the very least he could try to have a good time at the beach. “Okay…okay, we’ll spend the day with them.” Al’s face cracked into a big smile as Sam raised a preemptive finger. “At least, until Gooshie tells us any different.”

     “That’s the spirit, Sammy boy!”

     As Al squeezed Sam close, he swallowed and hoped he didn’t regret this.

\-------

     Maria and her sister Francisca were fond of two things: handsome American men (which they apparently were), and stuff. Just, stuff. They’d stop at every booth along the boardwalk and take delight in whatever shiny baubles caught their eye, the gaudier the better. They’d brag about their money (they came from wealth) and tell stories about where their jewelry came from and what famous person gave it to them. Al of course was having the time of his life, but Sam found them quite shallow.

     But, he couldn’t deny they were fun. They tackled life with such enthusiasm it was infectious. Francisca carried a clunky old Polaroid camera with her—a model Sam hadn’t seen in decades; it brought back good memories—and insisted on documenting their travels. As they ate ice cream together, they got passerby to take their photos. And they had many colorful stories--some of which even took Al by surprise--and they were charming, if not a little over the top. This was a party for them. Admittedly this was not Sam’s typical type, but he was finding it easier and easier to forget about leaping for a while. They might’ve been a little shallow, but they were good company—for the most part.

     But as usual for Sam these days, there was the guilt. Not that he considered this anything more than a day at the beach, but he hadn’t been on a real date since he told Donna he wanted a divorce. Sure, he’d been romantic on leaps before--leaps where he didn’t remember--but something like this felt different. He was…well, if he was being honest, a little scared. He wished he had Al’s ability to bounce back—but maybe he was simply more of a pro after five marriages.

     Why had he agreed to this again? The last time he’d been on a double date with Al, the girl’s father had to pick her up for curfew.

     They seemed to’ve come to an unspoken agreement—maybe it was a psychic twin connection?—that Maria was with Al and Francisca was with Sam, so while Al and Maria shared double entendres, Francisca was on Sam like glue. Al wasn’t deceptive about his intentions—half of his time was spent with his eyes on Maria’s chest—which was okay, because Maria wasn’t subtle either. And while whatever Al did was up to him, Sam didn’t exactly want to commit to the same. So as his friend was dipping his ice cream cone into Maria’s mouth sensually, Sam was awkwardly trying to distract himself from a woman who was not getting the same sort of attention.

     “The sunset is beautiful, no?” Francisca asked him with her head cocked, leaning into him, “Very romantic…”

     “Yeah, heh.” Sam smiled politely. “Oh look, hats!” Awkwardly pulling away, he half-sprinted toward a booth selling souvenirs. Smooth.

     “Ohhh, I have a sweet tooth too, you know…” He could hear Al breathe.

     “Then why don’t you come have a taste?”

     Sam glanced back. God, their tongues were down each other’s throats. He whipped back to the booth in front of him and pretended to be interested in whatever hat was directly in view. He picked it up and folded the brim, as if testing the quality.

     An amused Francisca peered down at his hands, a half-smirk on her face. Sam’s tactics were not lost on her. Keeping a respectful distance apart, there was a shift in her attitude; her tone was markedly different than it had been before, less of a performance. “Our dad has the same one,” she said softly, nodding toward the large resort he’d noticed when they’d leaped in, “He owns the hotel…all of them, actually. Which means he could afford a new hat, but he’d never replace it. It means too much to him.”

     Sam’s interest picked up a little at the fond remembrance. “Oh? And why’s that?”

     “Because he’s balding and he’d never take it off.”

     At the unexpected response, Sam burst into laughter. She grinned wryly and gave him a playful nudge, taking the hat and placing it on his head.

     “What do you think?” he asked, tipping it askew.

     She scrunched up her face. “Nah.” She snatched it off. “It’s not you. It’s…too showy.”

     “How do you know if I’m showy or not?”

     “I can read people,” she stated matter-of-factly, like she really did have psychic powers.

     Sam grinned lopsidedly, playing along. “Oh yeah? Read me.”

     Head tilted again, her eyes narrowed as she studied him carefully. “Hm, you strike me as…” A beat. She tapped a neon pink nail to her lips. “...someone who’s honest, maybe to a fault…but still has his secrets...who thinks himself kind but maybe has a bit of darkness in him.” Sam’s smile slowly faded and he froze. She leaned in teasingly to cut the tension. “…and loyal, even when his friend makes him go on a date with two crazy sisters.”

     The assessment revealed far more depth than Sam gave her credit for. Maybe she did have some sort of power, because she definitely seemed to know more than he thought he let on. He ducked his head sheepishly at the last comment. “It’s that obvious, huh?”

     “Perhaps.”

     “I’m sorry,” he sighed, rubbing the back of his neck, “It’s not that you’re…I mean, you’re very, um…what I mean is—”

     “It’s okay. You want it to be special.” She smiled genuinely. Behind her warm eyes, Sam saw a very perceptive woman that made him realize his mistake of judging her so quickly. He wished he’d noticed how bright she was earlier in the day, because now…he kind of liked her.

     She laughed and shook her head, her curls bouncing in the sunlight. “You know, I just realized I never found out your name?”

     Sam didn’t really know, but he answered easily, “It’s Sam. Sam Beckett.” He didn’t think about why he told her his real name, didn’t consider the consequences…he just felt he could.

\-------

      “I don’t, um…I don’t usually do this.”

     “Have casual sex?”

     Sam closed his eyes and chuckled a little uncomfortably, stiffly rubbing his hands together as he sat next to Francisca on the hotel bed. “Yes—but it’s not just that.” He twisted his fingers together and thought on it. His fear was weighing heavily on his mind. This woman was still a perfect stranger, but he felt comfortable opening up to her. And…he needed to be open about this. “I was, um…I was married. Until very recently, in fact. And I haven’t…been with anyone since…” The words left him. What was he doing?

     “Ohhh…I see.” She nodded and looked down at her hands as well. “You must have loved her very much.”

     “I did.” Sam paused. He wondered where Donna was now and hoped she was happy. Had she found someone else?

     “It doesn’t erase her, you know.” He looked up with surprise. “You’re a good man. Good men remember the people who loved them.” She placed her hand over his and he swallowed hard. She called him a good man. It meant more than she knew.

     “Was she your first? Wife, I mean.”

     Sam gave a slightly amused smile as he thought of how different Al’s answer would’ve been. “Yeah.”

     “I was married. Twice. But I only really loved the first.” Sam looked over at her as she gazed at the wall reminiscently. She seemed too young to be married twice. “He died. A heart attack. Can you believe it? 30 years old, and he dies of a heart attack.”

     Sam frowned. “I’m so sorry.”

     “Don’t be. It taught me something I never forgot: life is too short.” Francisca gave a devil-may-care shrug. “Tomorrow may never come, so why put off your own happiness?”

     Perhaps it took a shot of reckless abandonment for Sam to suddenly understand.

     Donna was no longer waiting for him. He couldn’t meet someone and fall in love again, not something long lasting anyway, unless he leaped home. And that clearly wasn’t going to happen yet. Maybe it never would. What he had was right now, the person he was with, and who only knew him as Sam Beckett. And though he knew he’d leave her life sooner rather than later…at the very least, he could see himself falling in love with her.

     “Besides,” she snorted, “I’d kick myself if I didn’t kiss you right now.”

     Take the chance. Forget about the leap, forget about the baggage, just do it. Scooping her face in his hands, he slowly leaned in and kissed her.

     He had now to be happy.

\-------

     Al was _very_ happy. He had to come up from under the sheets for air. Wowza! This was one kitten who never stopped!

     “You’re a machine!” she gasped, also needing a quick breather.

     “Thanks,” he panted, “Remind me your name again?”

     “Who cares?”

     Breather done. They locked lips and once again buried themselves under the blankets. This was going to be a long night! He was astounded that he’d landed such a knockout, and with so little work on his part. Whoever he’d leaped into, he must be one good lookin’ guy. If he got broads like this a lot, he was one lucky dog.

     Not that he had much else on his mind at the moment, but Al did have a few thoughts. For once, he had leaped into a not-so-unpleasant situation without all those sticky complications. Well, maybe a different kind if sticky, but still. Just simple sex. Simple, crazy sex. Holy cow, she was pulling some moves even _he_ didn’t know!

     And after their recent string of rotten luck, he was glad GTFW had _finally_ given them a break. Hopefully Sam had taken his advice and loosened up, because he’d be thankful he did.

\-------

     Sam stirred awake feeling like a different person. Braver, more spontaneous.

     For once, he was doing something for _him_ on a leap and…the world didn’t end, he didn’t combust into flame. He’d just had a great time. Why had he waited so long to do something like this? What had he been so afraid of? He couldn’t believe he’d followed Al’s advice on this, but…he felt good. And he was looking forward to whatever time the leap afforded to him and Francisca. With a faint smile, he blindly reached over to caress her. “Mm, morning…”

     The bed was empty.

     His eyes cracked open. Brow furrowed slightly, he sat up and searched the room. There was no sign of Francisca anywhere. Nor was there a sign of any of his belongings either.

     As the slow realization of his sleep-addled brain gave way to panic, he went rigid. Everything was gone.

     Suddenly coming to life and scrambling out of bed, he checked the bathroom, the floor, the closet. His suitcase, his wallet, the place had been cleaned out. Hell, even the little shampoo in the shower had been taken. He was left with nothing but the clothes on his…

     Eyes as big as saucers, he looked down and suddenly remembered he was completely in the buff. With a rapid onset of self-consciousness, he haphazardly snatched a sheet off of the bed and wrapped it around his waist. Oh boy.

     He should’ve learned by now that if a leap seemed too good to be true, it usually was.

     How could this happen?! He’d just gotten used to the idea of letting go of his paranoia, but sure enough, his instincts had been right. There was the other shoe, dropped right onto his thick skull! He should’ve followed his gut instead of Al’s…gut.

     The worst realization of this terrible situation, however, was that he was going to have to go outside at some point. And it was mighty breezy out there.

     Al might’ve been just next door, but there was above a zero percent chance that Sam might be seen by someone and that was more than he cared to gamble on. Sometimes he wondered if whoever was leaping them around in time wasn’t constantly thinking up ways to get his clothes off. Every other leap he was losing his shirt or pants. It came off suspect, was all. What he wouldn’t give for some sweatpants, hell he’d simply settle for a pair of underwear at this point! But if he was going to get anywhere, he was going to have to bite the bullet. Taking a slow, deep breath, he steeled himself for the worst and grabbed the knob, ready to bolt for Al’s door.

     When he ripped the door open, however, Al came barging inside…also wearing nothing but a bed sheet and a look of horror.

     “They robbed us!”

     “You too?!”

     Al spun around to shoot Sam a dirty look. “No, I just like hanging out _au naturel_ with you, Sam.” A beat. He did a double take as he realized his friend was naked too. “Hey, did you knock boots with her?”

     Sam was flustered for a moment. “I—yes,” he answered with embarrassment.

     Al couldn’t help the small smirk on his face, distracted as usual. “Awww, good for you, pal.”

     “Al.”

     “...I didn’t actually think you’d do it. You know, I’m proud of you...”

     “ _Al._ ”

     “...If she was anything like her _sister_ , Sam, she was _wild_! Hey, did she do that thing with you where she put her hand—?”

     “Al!” Sam shouted, knocking Al out of his reverie. He hurried over, awkwardly holding his sheet in place. “What if something happened to them?”

     “Heh?”

     “What if they didn’t rob us? What if someone else did and—and took them hostage?”

     Al twisted his mouth and let his head fall sideways. Poor, dumb Sam. “Both of them? Tune in to reality.”

     “It’s possible.”

     “It’s also possible I sang at the Grand Ole Opry, but that doesn’t make it true.” Al lowered his eyelids pointedly as Sam looked downward with ever-wavering denial. He sighed, shuffling over to the mirror and motioning to the glass. “Just take a look please. Take a look.”

     Wondering what he was getting at, Sam joined him and caught their reflections for the first time. Staring back at them were two fat, balding men in their 40s, with faces that defied the mirror to shatter. _Not_ quite the Don Juans the girls made them out to be.

     “Trust me, Sam. With faces like that? We were duped.”


	2. Chapter 2

     “That’s it! They can _use_ us, they can _steal_ from us, they can _strand_ us here—but I have to draw the line somewhere! This is _evil,_ Sam!” Al pulled uncomfortably at the ugliest, wrinkliest Hawaiian shirt either of them had ever laid eyes on, paired up with a too-large pair of Bermuda shorts. “What kind of monsters are we dealing with?”

     Seated in the backroom of the hotel lobby—dressed in the _second_ ugliest, wrinkliest Hawaiian shirt either of them had ever laid eyes on—Sam was hunched over slightly and feeling sorry for himself. “I can’t believe I fell for her act, Al.”

     Rummaging through the lost and found bin, Al held up another terrible shirt with disgust. “You’d think _someone_ could’ve lost some better clothes…”

     “I mean, the story about her dead husband? Telling me she understood, that I was honest? How gullible could I be?”

     Noticing the prominent pit stains on the shirt he’d grabbed next, Al reacted with horror and flung it away.

     “I never should’ve listened to you. That was my first mistake.”

     “What?” At this, Al’s head nearly spun around, but Sam was in his own little world now.

     “’ _Try to have fun,’_ he said, ‘ _No strings attached.’_ I’m such an idiot!”

     “Hey now,” Al said defensively, clumsily pulling himself up and stomping over, “Don’t you go pointing the finger at me. How was I supposed to know they were planning on hijacking our stuff?” He waved his hands with a martyred look. “If I’m guilty of anything, it’s of trusting too much.”

    “You just wanted to have sex!”

     “And they delivered, so how could I possibly know what they were planning?” Al raised his arms, befuddled.

     Head in hands, Sam mentally kicked himself for the 300th time today.

     “But hey…” Peering through his fingers, Sam jumped at Al’s sudden proximity to him. He was leaning in with a lecherous grin. “Tell me it wasn’t good, Sam.”

     “That’s none of your business,” Sam shot back, crossing his legs huffily.

     “You won’t even admit it? You’re that prideful?”

     Leaning in irritably and wary of the thin walls, Sam hissed, “I am not going to discuss my sexual encounters with you.”

     Someone cleared their throat. The hotel receptionist was standing in the doorway, looking almost as embarrassed as they were. “Are you two done in here?”

     Turning red in the face, Sam shot to his feet and joined Al as he approached the woman.

     “Ah yes, we, uh, we’re done,” Al said quickly, “We were wondering though, if you could maybe help us out.”

     “If I can, sir.” She sounded annoyed. Their hosts had used credit cards and that covered their rooms, but now without them they were two penniless leeches. It was already big of the hotel to offer some of their unclaimed lost and found items.

     “We’re looking for two girls—twins,” Sam jumped in, “They were with us last night. In their 30s, really pretty. Their names are Francisca and Maria…something.”

     “You don’t know their last names?” the receptionist asked, slightly judgmental. Sam blushed.

     Al was unfazed. “Their father owns the hotel.”

     The receptionist bit her lip and thought for a moment, brow crinkled. “Mmm…no, I don’t think so. Mr. Riviera has two sons. And I’d definitely remember if he had twin daughters.”

\-------

     “They lied about that too? Can you believe it, Sam?”

     “They told us they were hotel heiresses who wanted to sleep with us, why wouldn’t we believe them?” Sam responded defeatedly from under his hand. He was still reeling from the fact he’d been so stupid. It wasn’t unusual for Al to get involved with a hookup that was more than he bargained for, but he expected more from himself.

     “It’s _lousy,_ ” Al stated authoritatively as he stomped down the beach. He reached into his pocket to see if anything had been left behind by the previous owner, finding it predictably empty. “Let’s just hope whoever we leaped here to help doesn’t need any dough.” Hang on a sec, maybe there was something. He pulled out an old stick of gum.

     _Clunk-shoom._ The door to the Imaging Chamber opened and out came Gooshie. If he had been tangible he would have nearly bumped into Al…who gaped at him with boggled eyes. As if things couldn’t get any worse, they were wearing matching shirts.

     Of all the outfits in all the world, Gooshie would be the only other person to slip into this travesty.

      “Oh, this is a _nightmare_ …”

     “You look nice, Admiral,” Gooshie said pleasantly to Al, who was already walking away.

     Sam was staring too. He couldn’t recall ever seeing Gooshie out of a white dress shirt and lab coat. But then again, he didn’t recall much about Gooshie B.L. (Before Leaping). “This is a new look.”

     “Do you like it?” the programmer beamed, holding out his arms to show off, “I thought maybe I’d try something more casual, and since I knew you were at the beach, this seemed pretty fitting.” It was heartbreaking that he thought it genuinely looked stylish. If even _Al_ thought it was tacky, he’d gone down a bad road.

     But Sam wasn’t that cruel. He swallowed and tried to be polite. “Well, it’s…it’s different.”

     This was embarrassing. Al would never live this down. If only swiss cheesing worked on everyone. For crying out loud, Gooshie looked like _Magnum, P.I._ after a bender. “One of us is going to have to change,” he called out.

     “Admiral?”

     “This leap is bad enough already, I can’t be playing twins with you!” Ugh, twins, he was angry for reminding himself. Shaking his head, Al stomped his way back. “By the way, thanks for arriving late to the party, Goosh. Not to be a backseat hologram, but maybe give us a heads up next time we’re about to be robbed.”

     “Sorry, we still have a lot of connection issues…” Gooshie apologized, taking out the handlink—then he looked up, realizing what he’d just been told, “Er—you were robbed?”

     “Yeah, we did the pelvic pinochle with—”

     “The details aren’t important now,” Sam interjected, eager to keep Al’s mouth shut. His friend might like to tell everyone about what he did with who, what, and where, but as far as Sam was concerned, his private life should remain private. “It’s over and we should move on to why we’re here. Do you know the reason we leaped?”

     “Or who we are?” Al added, scratching his temple.

     Gooshie looked up from the handlink. “You didn’t check your wallets?”

     Al chuckled. “Well, we were a little busy to—oof!” Sam elbowed him in the ribs.

     “Fortunately I’ve got everything you need to know right here.” Gooshie proudly held up the handlink before proceeding. “The date is…June 14th, 1964. You are Darren Huddleson,” he pointed to Al, “and Jeff Maclean.” His finger slid over to Sam. “Both of you work in steel mill imports, and you’re on a business trip in Puerto Vallarta, Mexico. And according to Ziggy, you’re here to…oh boy.” His eyes bugged out and he frowned. “In six days, Jeff Maclean and Darren Huddleson are arrested for the suspected murders of Margarita and Yolanda Escamilla. The sisters were found dead…w-with your IDs on them.”

     A slow pause of dread. Suspecting he knew the answer, Al asked anyway, “Those sisters aren’t…twins, are they?”

     “Gee, how did you know?”

     Sam and Al exchanged a look. It was gonna be one of those leaps.

\-------

     The two leapers hadn’t been waiting long before their programming hologram popped back into view, eager to help. Gooshie was becoming a lot more comfortable with this Observer thing; for an introvert, he seemed to be enjoying himself in the busy tropical surroundings. “Wow, what a view that was!”

     “Gooshie,” Sam pressed.

     “Oh, sorry, Dr. Beckett. The Escamilla sisters are at the Sunset Plaza, about…” Gooshie tapped at the handlink, mapping it out. “10.3 miles away.”

     Sam’s eyes widened and his jaw fell slack. “10 _miles_? Already?”

     “Oh spectacular,” Al groused, “We’ve got no money and we’ve got no car. How’re we supposed to get there, _fly_?” He flapped his arms up like little wings.

     Considering their options for a moment, Gooshie scratched at his mustache and thought. This gave them a little hope that Ziggy had a plan. “Well…do you have sunscreen?”

\-------

     As it turns out, no, they did not have sunscreen. And with the temperature skyrocketing in the afternoon sun, both Sam and Al were starting to turn the shade of Christmas paper. As their sandaled feet beat into the pavement five miles into their ten mile trek, neither of the men were finding their mood improving.

     It wasn’t his fault. Not really, Al thought. Hell, who would say no to a couple of choice dames like that? He’d have been crazy to pass that up! Fate doesn’t serve you up two tall glasses of champagne just for you to pour it out on the ground. Didn’t he have the right to a little indulgence every now and then? And anyway, he never claimed to be a saint!

     Besides, he was just thinking of Sam. Sam had been leaping too long; even before he stepped into the Accelerator, the last time he’d had a vacation was during the Reagan administration. He had to take life’s simple pleasures when he could get it. And like when Al was the hologram, sometimes he had to push Sam in the right direction. Yeah, he was being _selfless_.

       “I told you we should have waited.”

      “Oh here we go…”

     “I mean it, Al. If we’d decided to wait for Gooshie, we would still have our wallets, our money—and we would have already saved Jeff and Darren from jail time.”

     “Look, did you or did you not sleep with her?”

     Sam started to halt, but quickly picked up his stride. Al struggled to keep up; he didn’t have Sam’s skyscraper legs.

     “Okay okay, sorry—Hey, I know this is personal…” Al panted. Jeez, Sam was fast. “…but my point is, you had a good time! Maybe things didn’t exactly go as planned, but it’s not a crime to do something for ourselves. We can’t be on leap patrol all the time.”

     “And doing something for ourselves is going to cost those women their lives.”

     “Oh that’s hooey and you know it! Who’s to say what we did had anything to do with that? Obviously _we_ didn’t kill them; we’re just victims of circumstance.”

     “Oh that makes it better. Thanks.”

     Al rolled his eyes. Sam was making things very difficult with his guilt tripping. “You know what? I think you’re afraid, pal. Afraid that if you stopped _complaining_ for a minute, you’d actually find out that the person making the leaps harder is you.”

     Sam laughed. “Oh yeah? You wanna talk about making things harder for yourself, how many times have I had to bail you out of something because you were thinking with your…you know what?”

     Al gritted his teeth; he wasn’t going to be insulted by a man who couldn’t even say the word penis. Then he stopped, his tongue slipping into his cheek as he grinned.

     Sam stopped too. He didn’t like Al’s look. “What?”

     “Oh nothing. I was just thinking about…Patricia.”

     Oh no. Sam’s jaw dropped with disbelief. “That was a long time ago, Al.”

     “I seem to recall you needing some bailing out yourself…” Al squinted to the sky thoughtfully. “I think a broken zipper was involved…?” He chortled to himself. “I never saw you run so fast.”

     “You swore you’d never bring that up again!”

     “’ _Al, pick me up out back…’”_

Unable to think of another comeback, Sam flicked Al’s extremely sunburnt nose. He let out a yell and flicked him back.

\-------

     The Sunset Plaza was a rather swanky place full of loaded clientele. It was upscale, glamorous, and meticulously kept. So imagine the receptionist’s surprise when she looked up to see two soaking tomatoes in wrinkled Hawaiian shirts come shuffling inside.

     One of the tomatoes—the one with the ugliest shirt—removed his sunglasses; his pale skin formed a mask around his eyes like a bandit.

     “Hello—” they started together. They shot each other salty looks and turned in opposite directions with exasperation.

     “Uh, hi,” the one with the mask rasped. He cleared his throat. “We’re looking for two women who’re staying here.”

     “Okay…” The befuddled woman looked the haggard men up and down. “What are their names?”

     Sam and Al exchanged a look. Wringing his hands nervously, Sam responded, “Well, heh, about that…”

\-------

     A very smug Margarita and Yolanda Escamilla were, in fact, just around the corner. Men were so predictable. It made their lives so much easier! They were feeling pretty self-satisfied about another job well done, ill-gotten suitcase in hand, when they came to a screeching halt. There stood their previous victims, looking a lot more bedraggled and pissed than the last time they’d seen them.

     A panicked glance. Code pink.

     Margarita got ahold of a bellhop as he was starting to pass by. “Sir! Sir, we need your help.”

     “Ma’am?”

     “We’re sure you’re busy and we hate to bother you, but we’re in…sort of a jam.” Yolanda bit her finger coyly, like a child who knew they were cute enough to get away with anything. Her cuteness was not lost on the bellhop.

     “You see those men over there?” Margarita asked, pointing toward Sam and Al at the front desk, “They’re our husbands. And…we’re not supposed to be here.” She laughed, slightly embarrassed.

     “We’ll be in real trouble if they catch us cheating, so if you could show us another way out of here, we’d be eternally grateful…”

     By now, he was a hair’s breadth away from a pair of breasts on either side. They blinked their long lashes and he nodded with determination. After all, if _those two_ were their husbands, maybe he had a shot.

\-------

     As it turned out, Sam and Al were not the only ones looking for Margarita and Yolanda. No sooner had they slipped out the back when the helpful bellhop ran into a huge brick of a man in a cream-colored suit, furiously looking for his luggage.

     “Have you seen two sisters leaving the hotel?” he asked briskly.

     This was getting pretty juicy. The bellhop wasn’t going to be a snitch—not when he could catch up with the women later anyway—but he might as well give the man a tip to save him some trouble. “Oh, those two left _hours_ ago. But if I were you, I’d watch out for their husbands. From what I hear, you don’t want to make them angry.” He pointed to the two schlubby white men at the front desk.

     The bellhop slipped away and the brick man fumed at the men up ahead. Their wives had messed with the wrong man.

     A slender fellow in a grey suit stepped up behind him. “No sign of them, boss.”

    The woman at the front desk had left and by now it appeared that the two men were speaking to a third person…but there was no one in sight. The brick squinted suspiciously at them. Typical American tourists. A meaty finger pointed toward the weirdos. “Follow their husbands. They’ll know where to find them. If they’ve so much as opened the suitcase…kill them.”

     “And if they haven’t?”

     “You still kill them.”

     The husbands ran out. Their shadow followed, hand on his piece.

\-------

     “Gooshie said they left two minutes ago...they can’t have gone far,” Sam panted as he and Al jogged to a stop and surveyed the busy area. Crowds of people lined the street and perused different shops. It seemed impossible to spot the sisters.

     Al’s arm shot out excitedly. “Ooh! Over there!” In the distance, Gooshie was hopping up and down and waving his hands over his head as people unknowingly passed through him. Taking his cue, the leapers dashed forward.

     Unaware of the hologram giving them away, Margarita and Yolanda were busy admiring jewelry at one of the stands. A sweaty, out of breath Sam came skidding toward them, followed shortly by Al, who was in much the same shape.

     By now, they were really desperate for air. “Aha!” Sam gasped, resting his hands on his legs, “There…there you are...” Damn, it was hot.

     “What…he said…” Al puffed, holding his back. This was pathetic.

     Instead of the real gotcha they’d planned, the women reacted with blank stares. “I’m sorry, you must have us mistaken for someone else,” Margarita said with a shrug.

     Oh the _audacity_ to rob them of their moment. “Oh come off it!” Al yelled, straightening out, “You got caught, so why don’t you fess up?”

     Yolanda decided to try a different angle. “ _No habla ingles.”_

     “ _We can do this in Spanish if you like_ ,” Sam answered. Both women looked surprised at his linguistic skills as he stepped closer, too tired to hide his displeasure. Still, he tried to at least sound reasonable. “We don’t want to get you in trouble. We just wanna talk.”

     Clearly, the women weren’t on board. “We’ve got nothing to say.” As they tried slipping away again, Sam grabbed Yolanda by the wrist. Their eyes met and something unspoken was shared between them. Sam’s anger, and Yolanda’s…guilt?

     Before they could say anything more, Margarita was shrieking.

     “ _Help! Help! We’re being attacked by a couple crazy Americans!”_

Al screwed up his mouth. “What did she say?” The words had barely left his lips before someone had shoved him down.

     A crowd of angry vigilantes were closing in, ready to assist these helpless women who were under assault by two American thugs. An extremely heavy man approached Sam, who still had Yolanda in his grasp. Eyes wide, he tried to fearfully explain, “No no, you don’t understand. This isn’t—” He was quickly shut up by a punch to the eye. Yolanda pulled away from his hand and the sisters disappeared once more into the crowd. “Don’t let them get away!”

     “I’m a little busy, Sam!” Al called as he was being lifted up. He screamed as three men hoisted him into the air and swung him back and forth before tossing him back into the dirt.

     “Gooshie!”

     “You got it, Dr. Beckett!” Gooshie popped out of sight.

     A group of men grabbed onto Sam as the large man approached again. “You like to pick on women, huh? Why don’t you take me on for size?”

     “Please, this is all just a misunder—” The man swung again and Sam managed to slip out of their grip just in time to duck. By the time he rose up, someone had thrown an ice cream cone at him, hitting him square in the eyes.

     “Who throws an ice cream cone?!” Al watched in puzzlement from the ground just as a small child jumped onto his back and he let out another yell. “AHHH! You little monster!”

     “Al, I can’t see!” Sam was desperately wiping at the ice cream as he was punched back into a stand. He tripped up, landing next to Al along with the various trinkets for sale.  

     “Shit!”

\-------

     “I’m gonna kill them, Sam! I’m gonna kill them!”

     Sam and Al crawled out from the confused crowd and made a break for it. It had taken a few more spills and some clever distractions, but at last the two of them had managed to thankfully break free from the locals. No one could accuse the twins of not being clever; it had certainly gotten them a head start. Little did they know, however, Sam and Al had a hologram on their side. Only…now they couldn’t find the hologram.

     Al pulled at the torn sleeve of his dirty shirt. “Aw man! This is my only shirt!”

     Sam looked up from his own shirt, which he had been attempting to clean of chocolate ice cream. “Oh, I’m sorry your _shirt_ was ruined,” he uttered sarcastically, leaning in and pointing at his fresh black eye. For all the chaos, Al had come out relatively unscathed.

     “You can hardly notice that,” Al dismissed. Sam glared. “I’ll tell ya one thing though, by the end of the day you aren’t gonna be the only one with a black eye. Now where the hell is Gooshie?”

     “Never mind him, there they are!” Sam spotted the sisters as they tried to blend into the crowd. They very quickly made eye contact and tried to disappear.

     “Oh no you don’t, you little witches!”

     With no time to consider where their holographic helper had went, they took off after the women. They were so preoccupied, however, that they completely missed Gooshie as he waved his arms and tried to get their attention.

     “Wait! Dr. Beckett! Admiral Calavicci! I HAVE SOMETHING IMPORTANT TO TELL YOU!”

     The girls ducked into an alley, just one more corner and they’d lose them—only their paths were blocked by a large truck as it came to a stop. Twisting around to make another exit, they found themselves face to face with Sam and Al again. Damn! Margarita craned her neck to look behind them, judging how far her voice would carry.

     “You’re not gonna get any help here, sister.” Al glowered at her. They were trapped this time. Let’s see them get clever now!

     Yolanda lifted her hands and took on a fighting stance in a last ditch effort to bluff them. “I feel I should warn you, I’ve got a black belt in karate.”

     This was getting annoying. Sam was proficient in many martial arts, and he didn’t recognize anything in her sloppy form. “If you would just stop and _listen_ ,” he said evenly, “You’d know we’re not gonna hurt you.”

     Suddenly, Gooshie ran through the building and stumbled to a stop. “GUNS!”

     “Guns?” Sam and Al’s heads whipped around with confusion.

     “Guns?!” the sisters repeated in alarm.

     No sooner had the truck moved than the five them suddenly found themselves in a hail of bullets. Shots blasted into the bricks as the four tangible victims frantically dropped to the ground.

     “Where the hell is that coming from?!” Al asked, covering his head.

     “The GUNS, gringo!” Margarita shouted as she slapped him over the head.

     “HEY!” Al smacked her back and Yolanda smacked him in retaliation.

     “Don’t hit my sister!”

     An exasperated, wide-eyed Sam peeked out from under his hands. “This isn’t helping!”

     “Might I suggest you run?” Gooshie helpfully pointed out.

     He was right. They were sitting ducks at this point. “C’mon!” Sam took hold of Yolanda’s hand and pulled her up as the other two scrambled to their feet.

     “Move faster, you idiot!” Margarita pushed Al forward as they made a mad dash out of the alley.

     “Idiot?!”

     They disappeared around the corner. Gooshie stayed behind as bullets whizzed through him, eventually catching sight of the brick man’s slender assistant plus two. The others weren’t ahead for long.

     “I tried to warn them,” Gooshie said, head shaking.

\-------

     “Who are those guys?” Sam panted as they ran toward the street.

     “How should we know?” Yolanda shrugged, “We don’t make friends with strangers who carry guns! Our car is this way.” She waved them toward the parking lot. Sam and Al felt a smidgeon of relief at the idea of pair of wheels, that is, until they got a look at the car.

     It was a piece of junk. Not just a normal piece of junk either, a car that was made up of several cars, probably not intended to be a convertible, rusted and hobbled together with hope and a prayer. If this was road safe, Sam would eat that hat he didn’t buy.

     This broke Al’s heart. No one should ever hate themselves enough to drive this thing. “That… _frankencar_ is yours?!”

     Yolanda scrunched up her face. “We don’t take the nice car out here. It could get stolen!”

     Oh, of course. Margarita tossed the suitcase into the back and jumped in over the side. Yolanda was already in the driver’s seat. “You two getting in? Or would you rather deal with those guys?” Looming dangerously close, the gunmen were weaving their way through the crowd.

     The options were not ideal, but they’d take the frankencar over a bullet in the back. They were barely in the vehicle before Yolanda punched it and they were off.


	3. Chapter 3

     With the gunmen specks in the rearview mirror, Sam let out a breath of relief and slumped back in his seat. Behind him, Al was massaging his chest. Why did every leap nowadays involve some crazed gunman?! Would it kill these yahoos to have a little imagination?

     Sam glanced over at Yolanda beside him and Margarita in the back. “Why were those men trying to kill you?”

     “Kill _us_?” Margarita asked, offended, “How do you know they weren’t trying to kill _you_?”

     “Yeah, hard to believe anyone would wanna off  _you_ girls…” Al muttered. Margarita shot daggers at him.

     “You stole from them, didn’t you?”

     “We’ve never seen those men in our lives!” Yolanda answered defensively, “We might be thieves, but we haven’t robbed every man on the planet.”

     Al lowered his eyelids. “Yeah, you’re real sweethearts. Look, obviously you did _something_ to get on their bad sides. Think real hard.”

     Now Margarita was getting annoyed. She held up the suitcase rigidly. “There’s nothing in here worth killing someone over and we’ll prove it to you.” Setting it in her lap, she began to unbuckle it. “This case is full of nothing but clothes and… _oh wow.”_ Her jaw fell open as she looked at the contents. Leaning over to get a look for himself, Al’s eyes nearly popped out of his skull.

     “ _Caramba_!”

     “What? What is it?” Sam craned his head back to look.

     Reaching into the suitcase, Al pulled out a stack of money in one hand and a bag of cocaine in the other. Holding it up pointedly, he stated, “We got a real problem.”

     Unthinkingly, Sam snatched the bag away from Al to get a closer look. “Oh my god…”

     “This has gotta be worth at least a hundred grand, easy.”

     Yolanda’s expression turned to panic. “That was in there?! Margarita, we’re dead!”

     By now, Margarita had put the suitcase between them to distance herself. “We swear we didn’t know he was a drug runner! We were just looking to con another tourist!” She looked to her sister for help.

     “Well what do we do now? Give it back?”

     Sam lifted his chocolate-stained sleeve to display the bullet holes that had narrowly missed him. “Somehow I don’t think they’re up for negotiating. We all know too much now.”

     Margarita snapped the suitcase shut. “What’s there to know? We didn’t even open the case. We’ll just tell them that when we drop it off. Who’s to say the men who were shooting at us even work for the man we robbed? It was just an unfortunate case of getting caught in the crossfire during…an unrelated shooting!”

     “Are you kidding me?” Al huffed with disbelief. What world were these two living in? “Soon as they see you again, they’re gonna give you a bunch of new holes!”

     Sam lifted his hands. All of this screaming wasn’t helping anyone. “Look, the sensible thing to do is call the police.”

     “No way!” the girls answered simultaneously, without hesitation. Sam and Al jumped at the loud outburst; already they were getting sick of the sound of their voices.

     “Would you rather get in trouble for stealing, or end up dead?”

     “If there’s one thing we’ve learned, it’s how to take care of ourselves.” Margarita snatched the cocaine from Sam’s hand and quickly shoved it back into the case. “And no good ever came from going to the police.”

     “Fine,” Sam responded testily, hands on the dashboard, “Then pull over and we’ll go ourselves. There’s no sense in dying over this.”

     “You go to the police, and we’ll show them these!” Taking a cue from her sister, Margarita pulled out the polaroids from earlier. Jeff and Darren’s faces smiled next to the Escamilla sisters with their ice cream. With a smug grin, Yolanda stated, “We’ll tell them we were in on it together.” She stuffed the pictures safely into her cleavage. “If we go down, you go down with us.”

     Sam and Al were incredulous. They were going to take them down with them alright, just not in the way they were threatening.

     Sam’s mouth hung open, but Al wasn’t quite as speechless. He honed in on Margarita since she was closest. “You broads have some nerve!” He wagged his finger at her, which she quickly slapped away. “We didn’t have to save you back there, you know.”

     “As I recall, it was _us_ saving _you._ ” She stuck out her tongue.

     Sam crossed his arms. He could only be an angel for so long. After the way they were treated, these girls still had the gall to act like they were somehow the victims. “Well maybe you owed us, you ever think of that?”

     “Oh please. Don’t act like you’re any better than we are. You weren’t exactly honest with us either.” Rolling her eyes and reaching into her pocket, Yolanda pulled out their wallets and held up Jeff’s license. “Right, _Sam?_ Or should I say Jeff?”

     If Sam weren’t so sunburned, he would’ve flushed red. Yolanda tossed both wallets at him and he caught them awkwardly. Al shot him a look at the mention of his true name, but he had no excuse for himself. Being in such good company, they couldn’t exactly discuss it. Sam turned completely forward in his seat and riffled through Jeff’s wallet.

     Although the situation was only mildly improved, Sam realized having the wallets back meant the IDs would no longer be found on the Escamilla’s bodies. The leap was far from resolved, but at the very least, it meant things were starting to turn in their favor.

     _Clunk!_

     The car suddenly jerked and then slowed to a stop. Other vehicles angrily honked their horns as they passed.

     “Uh-oh. I, um…don’t suppose you boys have any money for a new battery?”

     Lips pursed, Sam held open his empty wallet. Guess the girls didn’t have their credit cards anymore. “What do you think?”

     The leap was going in their favor, their asses.

     Before Sam and Al even had a chance to start bitching again, the sisters had exited the vehicle, tied their shirts up to show off their midriffs, and flagged down a car.

     The old man stared at their assets. Margarita twirled at her hair. “ _Hey mister!_ Thanks for stopping!”

     “Our daddy’s car broke down and now we can’t take our dates to the beach. It’s a total bummer!”

     Reaching down her shirt, Margarita pulled out a lollipop, plopped it in her mouth, and pulled it out with a pop. Sam and Al gaped. How much did those two keep stored in there? “I don’t suppose you could help us out, cutie?”

\-------

     “I can’t believe that worked!” Sam whispered in awe. His eyes widened. “I can’t believe that worked on _us_!”

     He and Al stood near the curb of the seedy motel as the sisters were checking in just out of earshot. Things were getting late, so it was agreed that they should shack up for the night with their newly-acquired cash. Not that it covered much. It made Sam nervous standing outside this place in the flickering light outside the motel. It was quite a change from the luxurious room he had the night before. But while most people came to a place like this for _other_ discretions, it would be a good spot for them to hide out from, say, scary men with guns.

     The whole drive there, Al had been boring a hole into the back of Sam’s head. Currently he had his hands in his pockets, watching him in silent judgment.

     He couldn’t take it anymore. Sam lifted his hands in a shrug. “What?”

     “You told her your name, Sam.”

     Oh yeah, that. Sam craned his neck, slightly embarrassed. “You were the one who said it wasn’t against the rules to let loose every once in a while…”

     “Names are a rule, Sam.”

     “I got caught up in the moment.”

     “So did I, but you don’t see me throwin’ the name Al Calavicci around. _Now_ who’s being reckless?”

     Sam pulled his hand down his eyes. “What’s going to happen? She tells someone she robbed Sam Beckett? So what?”

     “’So what?’” Al repeated, leaning in, “You don’t spread personal information around a leap, that’s what! Who knows what you could’ve changed?” Then as an aside, he lifted a shoulder and added, “Besides, I wouldn’t trust these girls with my real name even if we weren’t leapers.”

     Sam’s jaw dropped. “You didn’t trust them but you’d sleep with them?”

     “I’ve bumped uglies with four of my ex-wives,” Al responded gravely, as if Sam should know better, “If I could survive _them_ , I could handle a one-night stand with a fake hotel heiress.”

     Al was unbelievable. If he’d let Sam in on his instincts early on, they could’ve avoided this mess! He was about to give him another piece of his mind when the sisters approached.

     “Bad news, boys,” Yolanda said, biting her lip coyly. Margarita held up a set of keys.

     “There’s only one room left for the night, and there’s one bed.”

     The girls giggled and eyed them seductively. “However will we solve this problem?”

\-------

     Loud snores were all that filled the room, wafting out of the bed where the two women slept peacefully. Meanwhile, Sam and Al were on the floor. The two of them exhaustedly adjusted their aching bodies on the ugly brown carpet and regretted not being able to fall asleep first. And the less they thought about the various creepy crawlies in the extremely thin walls, the better.

    They stared at the water-stained ceiling, aggravated at the snoring women and each other.

     “This sucks.”

     Sam turned his head toward Al, who scowled upward, arms folded over his chest. Whether they liked them or not, they couldn’t just let them die. “We have to go to the police, Al,” he said quietly.

     “Can we talk about this later? My feet hurt, my skin hurts, my pride hurts. I think that kid might’ve bruised a rib. Go to sleep.”

     “Al.” Sam’s mouth was a thin line.

     Eyes darting toward him and realizing they were going to have a conversation, Al groaned and turned over to lean on his elbow. “I agree, Sam, but you heard what they said. They’ll throw us under the bus and Jeff and Darren will end up in the slammer anyway.”

     “But they won’t go to jail for murder this time,” Sam pointed out. Al considered his point, finding it hard to argue. “What’s the alternative? They’ve got a drug runner after them. They’re probably after us now too. They aren’t going to stop just by giving the suitcase back.”

     Al scratched at his ear. “You’re right. At this point, it’s safer behind bars.”

     “So we’re agreed?”

     “Agreed. Tomorrow we head for the police station.”

     Nodding, the two of them laid back down. It was a contract.

     Head resting uneasily on his wafer thin pillow, Sam let slip a crooked smirk. “You know what? That’s the first sensible thing you’ve said all leap.”

     Opting to simply shoot him a dirty look, Al turned over so his back was facing him. Sam softly laughed to himself.

\-------

     Al was having one of those recurring dreams about Denise. He hadn’t seen her in years, but the magic she worked with her _hands_ …he’d never swiss cheese that. Her nimble writer’s fingers danced their way across his chest.

     “Ohhh Denise…”

     Grinning like a dope, his eyes blearily opened hoping to see his lovely lady…and instead he was nearly nose-to-nose with Sam. Simultaneously surprised, they both yelped and pulled back…only to find themselves stuck together.

     “Huh?”

     “What the…?” Sam lifted his right hand and Al’s left. They were cuffed.

     “The girls!” they shouted. Frantically pulling themselves up, they found the bed empty and, for the second time, all of their things missing.

     “Damn it, not again!”

     “Those sneaky devils!” Al spat out furiously, “Where the hell were they hiding the handcuffs?!” He blinked. “That’s a stupid question; probably the same place they hide everything else…” He had to admit, it was impressive. He smacked his forehead, accidentally yanking Sam toward him.

     “They must have overheard us last night…”

     “Well now what?” Al sighed, letting his hand drop like an anchor. Sam suddenly dropped down with him. “We wait for Gooshie to tell us where to find their bodies?”

     “That will be a little hard to do.” They spun around—the wrong way; their arms tangled and they had to spin back around. Gooshie was standing there solemnly—in a now rumpled Hawaiian shirt. “Because according to Ziggy, now all four of you are found dead.”

     A beat. Sam could only produce a humorless smirk. At this point, he wasn’t really surprised. “You hear that, Al?” he asked slowly, “We’re dead.”

     “I’m not deaf, Sam,” Al shot back. To Gooshie. “Where? When?”

     Gooshie gulped and clasped his hands in front of him, reluctant to give the information. “Well...you were found at sea on June 21st, 1964.” The two men tried to remember the current date and do the math before Gooshie added, “...and June 24th…and July 2nd…”

     Their eyes went wide when they realized what that meant. They were found in pieces.

     “Looks like he really made us sleep with the fishes, huh?” Al asked numbly, “Or the dolphins and sharks…”

     Sam stomped over to Gooshie, dragging Al closely behind. He wasn’t going to check out just yet. “Yolanda and Margarita stole a suitcase full of money and drugs from someone staying at the Sunset Plaza. Whoever it belongs to, he’s the one who makes us disappear.”

     “I’ve got you covered, Dr. Beckett.” Gooshie pulled the handlink out of his shirt’s front pocket, quickly keying in information. “While you were sleeping, we were running scenarios. Ziggy calculates with 86.2% certainty it’s a drug kingpin named Mateo Noguera. The local police have been trying to arrest him for years, but they could never get anything to stick. He was never charged with a crime.”

     “Glad to know the justice system is just as broken here,” Al muttered sarcastically, “So swell. How do we a) stop him, and b) put him away for good?”

     “Well…” Gooshie squinted one eye shut. “We’ll work on it, but they’re probably going after the Escamilla sisters, right? I’d help them first. They have the suitcase, so my guess is they’re the priority.”

     “And they’re long gone by now.” Al’s shoulders sunk with irritation. “Unless you know how we can get a car for free?”

     Eyes searching the room, Sam suddenly brightened up. “I have an idea,” he said as he picked up the bed sheet, “When in Rome...”

     Al was catching on. He nodded. “Go to Mexico.”

\-------

     “Ohhhh! Oooohhhhh!” Al moaned pathetically and wobbled unsteadily against Sam, the two of them nearly bumping into a concerned passerby. Torn sheets were wrapped around 80% of his body. What bits of skin were exposed were accentuated generously with strawberry jelly from their complimentary breakfast to make him suitably gross. While he groaned and shambled about like a zombie, Sam held him close and kept their cuffs hidden.

     “ _Oh please!”_ Sam begged exaggeratedly in Spanish, “ _Spare some change for the poor!_ ” One or two people stopped and hesitantly handed over some bills. Al shambled and the two of them got uncomfortably close to some stragglers. “ _It’s my uncle. He has a, uh…a rare disease. Um…um... Pancrea…siphil…itis. We’re trying to pay for his surgery…or funeral.”_ Al had no idea what he was saying, but Sam nudged him to continue playing it up. He pretended to have a coughing fit. _“I’m told it’s very contagious, but we have nowhere to go…we have to stay right here on the street.”_

Now coughing on several people, they rapidly found more money being thrown their way by persons suddenly wanting them to leave. Inside, Al was grinning. He should’ve been an actor!

     To catch the scammers, they had to become the scammers. Sam didn’t like lying for people’s money, but he figured if it was in service of saving lives, it probably balanced out.

     “ _Gracias! Gracias!_ ” That was the one thing Al understood, and he expressed the same. Sam nudged him and he went back to coughing and moaning. Don’t get cocky.

     “ _He could go any time…”_ Sam wept, holding into Al’s chest, “ _He’s in the final stages.”_

     A pause. Sam stomped Al’s foot and he yelped, glaring at him. Sam gave him a look. _That’s your cue, Al. Stop milking it._ Jeez, everyone was a critic. Al curled up and pulled out a bottle of jelly and cereal from his sheets, pouring it discretely into his mouth. When he straightened up, the mixture came tumbling out of his mouth like horrific bile.

     Amongst shocked gasps was the sound of purses opening up.

\-------

     Well, the rental car was crappy, but at least it was better than Yolanda and Margarita’s nightmare. Hopefully the agency didn’t care if they got jelly on the seats. One thing was for sure, the bugs were fans. They liked the ice cream on Sam’s shirt too.

     “That might’ve been the dumbest thing we’ve ever done,” Sam said through pursed lips.

     “I dunno, you’ve been acting pretty dumb all leap.” The insects were flocking to Al like kids to a playground. He waved his free hand around to disperse them. This was the worst.

     “Says Mr. ‘Sweet Tooth’…” Sam not-so-subtly shot back. A few bugs flew into his eyes, and he took his uncuffed hand off the wheel to shoo them away. The car jerked sideways, causing Al to fall into him.

     “Hey! Would you watch it?!”

     Eyes wide, Sam quickly regained control of the car after a momentary panic. “This isn’t easy to do in handcuffs…”

     “I hate it when you drive, Sam.”

     Rolling his eyes, Sam lifted their cuffs to demonstrate. “You want to take the wheel?” That shut him up. His eyes slid away and he pouted. “Besides, if you were driving, we’d be wrapped around a pole after going 100 miles an hour.”

     Jaw dropping, Al stared at Sam in disbelief. “Oh that’s rich coming from Soccer Mom over here. Jeez. Bad enough I gotta go to the bathroom with you, now you’re gonna criticize my driving?”

      “I’m hurry—" Sam blew another bug away. “I’m hurrying, okay? We’ve wasted enough time on this leap already.”

     “Well what’s gonna happen, we end up deader?” Al chuckled and leaned back in his seat. “Hey, maybe that’ll improve our act, Sam.”

     “Do you think your jokes are helpful?”

     “Well they certainly can’t make things any worse.”

     “I can’t believe you. All four of us are murdered and you’re sitting here making wisecracks!” Sam shook his head. “This leap has been one disaster after another!”

     In a moment of bottled up exasperation, Al threw his hand up and blurted, “Well you can’t keep blaming me!”

     The car was pulled hard to the right, coming to a screeching halt on the side of the road. Dust kicked up in the air and began to settle down around them as Sam stared at his clenched fist on the steering wheel.

     He was very still now. “I don’t…blame you.”

     There was a sadness in Sam’s voice. Al’s scowl faded as he realized this had nothing to do with the current leap.

     He was hanging on to what happened last time. And it was no picnic for Al either, but he realized that realistically there was only so much they could do. Maybe that was a bit cynical, but at the end of the day, they had to try their best and take what wins they could. The kid had a lot of baggage lately, and despite himself he just kept packing. Maybe if he patted himself on the back every once in a while, he’d realize there were no wings back there. “It’s not your fault they’re gonna die, Sam. That’s what we’re here for, to stop it.”

     “I could’ve saved him, Al.”

     Al blinked with surprise.

     He wasn’t sure what to say at first. He didn’t know the details of the last leap. Hell, he was so loony toons he had barely been there to remember what had happened to _him,_ but he was not witness to what Sam had done. All he knew was Sam was the winner, and the other guy…he was the loser.

     “He was hanging from the window and…and you were going to jump. So I went after you.” Sam was frozen in place, avoiding making eye contact. His gaze was fixed on the wheel, but he could feel the intensity of his friend’s stare.

     Well. If they were being honest Al might as well be direct. “Could you have saved us both?”

     A pause. Sam shrugged helplessly and half-laughed. “I don’t know.”

     He couldn’t look up, couldn’t face Al’s scrutinizing gaze. Wondered if he saw him differently and decided his friend wasn’t who he said he was. If he saw…the face of the other man. He knew pieces of what he’d done to Al, to others. He’d let a man die. Was that really so different than the lives the other half had taken?

     “You can’t save someone who doesn’t want to save themselves, Sam.”

     What should have been relief flooded Sam with even more guilt. Al didn’t see it, but he did. If he was so much more righteous, how could he have forgotten Donna so easily? Did he really believe what he’d been told two nights before, or was he simply being selfish? Did he really let the other man fall because of Al? Or was it what he wanted? He looked desperately to his friend. “But what if I’m like him, Al?”

     There wasn’t a doubt in Al’s mind that Sam had done what he thought was right, and that’s the best anyone could hope for. He knew for a fact Sam wouldn’t have let someone go without giving them a second, third, fourth chance, and Al vividly remembered each painstaking time he himself had reached out and failed. If he had been in Sam’s shoes, after everything the other man had done…he wasn’t sure he would be so kind.

     Maybe Al lacked his own self-confidence at times despite his bravado, but it was no act when it came to his friend. His expression was certain. “The fact we’re having this conversation should be your answer.”

     Sam’s shoulders dropped with slight relief. If he was unsure, Al usually had the answers he was too clouded to see. He trusted him. If he thought he was good, he must have something in him. A weight lifted off his overburdened body.  

     Al’s intensity turned into a grin and lightened the mood enough for Sam to give a small smile of his own. “Now let’s go get our stuff back, huh?”

     He reached across with his right arm and slapped Sam’s shoulder playfully. Burnt skin met burnt skin and both of them yelped in pain.

\-------

     Yolanda Escamilla was conflicted, which was unusual for someone in her line of work. But she’d never been in the business of getting people killed—just relieving them of some of their cash. Margarita could sense her guilt, like she sensed a lot of things her sister didn’t say aloud. She put the gas pump back in its cradle and turned to her.

     “Would you relax? We’ll be out of town before you know it.”

     “Did we do the right thing? Leaving them behind?”

     “Absolutely. They’re probably halfway to the American embassy by now. They’ll be fine.” Margarita could see Yolanda wasn’t convinced. She grabbed her shoulders and smiled. “I wouldn’t lie to you. That’s why I love you; you’re so moral.”

     Yolanda grinned. What would she do without her sister?

     A gun clicked. “Aw, isn’t this sweet?”

     The girls whipped around. In front of a limo with darkened windows, Mateo Noguera and his slender companion stood with guns just visible at their sides.

     “I love to see families getting along,” Noguera said without so much as a hint of a smile. His goon was motionless at his side. “So you see, I’d hate to have to tear you apart. But I’ll make you a deal. If you return the case and everything in it, I’ll let you live. Sound reasonable?”

     The girls swallowed nervously. Even if he let them live, he didn’t say with all their parts attached.

     “W-We don’t have it anymore,” Yolanda answered.

     Noguera’s nostrils flared, but Margarita stepped forward boldly. “We dumped it. We’re not gonna hold onto dirty money.”

     Surveying her thoughtfully, Noguera slowly stepped closer. The two girls were visibly shaking, but they kept on brave faces. He raised the gun up and used the barrel to turn Margarita’s head toward him. “Well we’re just going to have to go get it, won’t we? Or do I have to shoot someone?”

     “Only one of us knows where it is specifically,” Yolanda said quickly, “But we won’t tell you who. So if you kill one of us, you could be killing the only person who can find it.”

     “Bull.”

     “You wanna try us?”

     Noguera gauged their bluff. They stood defiant. Finally, he shrugged. “Okay. If I can’t kill you, I’ll just shoot your husbands instead.”

     At this, his partner opened up the limo. Inside were Sam and Al, handcuffed in the back seat.


	4. Chapter 4

     “If I was married to you, I would’ve jumped off a bridge.”

     Margarita matched Al’s glare. She felt guilty, but she didn’t feel _that_ guilty. She started muttering in Spanish.

     “What’d you say to me?”

     “I called you a pig.”

     “Why I oughta…!”

     While the two of them were arguing, Yolanda glanced up from her purse to Sam. He was quietly keeping to himself, which was almost worse than being loud and angry. “You could’ve gone back to the States and let us deal with this.”

     Sam looked away from the window. “That doesn’t help you.”

     She pulled back with surprise. No one had ever shown that kind of concern for them before, much less someone they’d just conned. “Why do you care?”

     “Because you’re going to end up dead.”

     Her eyes flicked down again as she mulled this silently. She could feel him critically watching her. Of course, he had every right to be angry after what they’d done. But this isn’t what they’d started out to do. Where did this simple robbery go wrong?

     Yolanda pulled her hair back, searching for the words. She wasn’t good at this sort of thing. “I’m sorry we got you into this. We left you at the hotel because we didn’t want you involved anymore.”

     Sam tried to hide the hurt, but he had to ask. Had to know if he’d at least fallen for a truth. “Did you mean anything you said that night?”

     Rubbing her arm guiltily, Yolanda could only shrug and halfheartedly smile. “Most of it.”

     There was a sincerity there, but he had a feeling he’d never know what part she meant.

     “You know they’re never gonna keep that deal, right?” Al leaned in, deciding to join their conversation. He raised his hand and shaped a gun with his fingers. “Soon as you tell them where the drugs and money are, we’re all coming down with a sudden case of lead poisoning.”

     “Duh, but what are we supposed to do?” Yolanda slumped back despondently. “Our choice is either get shot now or get shot later.”

     Looking toward Al, Sam knew they were both thinking the same thing: where the hell was Gooshie? He looked out the window again. “Who knows? Maybe someone out there is watching out for us…” Hopefully. Probably.

     The rest of the drive was nervously quiet.

\-------

       Gooshie did not miraculously show up. Figured. If this was a TV show, he would’ve already appeared with a magic solution.

       As the group of them walked down the beach, the slim man was sticking close to Sam and Al, gun to their backs, making sure they kept their cuffs hidden. The sisters were up front with Noguera, leading them toward a pier. It didn’t matter if the guns were hidden. They must’ve looked strange. After all, Sam and Al still looked like a couple of nuts.

     Sam was disappointed in their performance this entire leap. “Some help we were,” he whispered to Al, “We came here to save them, and now we’re hostages.”

     The gun nudged into his back. “Quiet.”

     Al gave a wordless look of agreement. Things were not ideal.

     Margarita stepped carefully under the pier. “I _think_ it was around here…” she said uneasily, trying to buy some time.

     The gun cocked. “Stop screwing around.”

     “Okay, okay!” With a sudden increase in urgency, she reached under the pier and pulled the case out of a crook near the top. Noguera snatched it quickly from her hand, shoving her aside as he cracked it open to make sure the contents were still inside.

     Clutching her bag, Yolanda watched helplessly and contemplated how much longer they had. That’s when Sam noticed her camera sticking out. Al followed his gaze and seemed to get the same idea.

     Sam cleared his throat, hoping to not seem too suspicious. The flunky dug the barrel in, but luckily he seemed to just want him quiet. That was okay. All he needed was Yolanda’s attention, because she was smart enough to figure it out. Al coughed. The barrel was shoved again, but this time Yolanda noticed. She glanced over, furrowing her brows, as two pairs of eyes darted pressingly toward her bag.

     She got it.

     Taking the camera out, she quickly darted over to a nearby beachgoer. Both drug runners began to point their guns, but were keenly aware of the other eyes around. “Excuse me! Excuse me! I’m so sorry, but can you take a picture for me? My family and I are on vacation and we just have to get a photo with a famous movie star!”

     This caught other people’s attention. The more eyes were on them, the more hesitant the criminals were.

     The beachgoer took the camera. “Oh thank you so much!” Yolanda walked backward to a furious Noguera, wrapping her arm around him, and then motioned back to Sam. “C’mon, honey! Don’t be shy.”

     The crowd was building. The guns slipped into their coats. Sam hurried forward, meaning Al had to follow. Margarita snuggled up next to him as they posed for the picture.

     “Say ‘movie star’!”

     “Movie star!” Everyone smiled as the Polaroid was snapped. Noguera and his companion were livid, but hid their anger behind a smile so as not to garner suspicion.

     The beachgoer handed the camera over with confusion. “What movies have you been in?” they asked curiously.

     “You mean you don’t know who this is?” Sam gasped incredulously, eyes wide as he motioned to Noguera, “This is…Robe…uh, Raul Julia!”

     “Ricardo Montalban,” Al coughed, rubbing his nose. Too modern, Sam.

     “Ricardo Montalban,” Sam repeated with a smile. The crowd began to murmur with interest and suddenly more people were showing up with cameras.

     “Thank you, RICARDO MONTALBAN!” Margarita shouted loudly as she and Yolanda pushed Sam and Al away. “We’ll just get out of your hair. BYE!” And before he could protest, the four of them had slipped into the throng and took off.

     “I love you, Senor Montalban!”

     “Can I have your autograph?!”

     Absolutely enraged, Noguera motioned for his companion to follow quietly, but they were both trapped among the many starstruck people asking for pictures. Doing away with any niceties, they started to shove them back. “Out of my way!” he barked.

\-------

     “Okay, we’re out of there—now what?” Yolanda shouted as they ran down the street amongst tourists and vendors.

     “I dunno,” Sam panted, “I didn’t think that far ahead!” He and Al were stuck for a moment as someone tried to squeeze between them, but the cuffs glued them together. They lifted their arms over the confused person and continued forward.

     “They won’t risk shooting into the crowd,” said Al, “Long as we lose ‘em, we’ll be okay! …probably.”

     Margarita glanced behind them and gasped. Noguera and his goon weren’t far behind. “I don’t think we’re going to lose them this time!”

     “You don’t have to lose them!” Sam jumped at Gooshie’s sudden appearance, nearly knocking back Al.

     “Where the hell have you been, sludge breath?!” Al demanded.

     Gooshie shrugged sheepishly. “We had an inspection.”

     “Another one?!” Sam gasped. Why the sudden influx of inspections at the Project? It was really getting annoying, but especially their timing. He’d have to ask about it later if he didn’t swiss cheese it.

     “You _loco_? Keep moving!” Taking Margarita’s advice, Sam and Al started forward again. Gooshie pressed in a code on the handlink, which caused him to glide along next to the leapers even as he stood still.

     “Sorry. We had to shut down for a while.” Gooshie’s apologetic look turned into an optimistic smile. “But it seems you two have had things under control here.”

     “You call this under control?!”

     Sam shook his head. “Just get to the point, Gooshie!”

     “Right, sorry, sorry…If you cut through that alley there,” Gooshie pointed behind them to the right, “there’s a police officer who can help. Ziggy predicts a 56.4% probability of success.”

     Al stopped to catch his breath. “If this was a horse race, we’d be betting on Snowball’s Chance.”

     “We’ve won with less,” Sam pointed out. He called out to the sisters. “Hey! Margarita! Yolanda! This way!”

     The Escamillas turned around with confusion to see the two men tracking back. “You’re going backwards!” Margarita shouted, baffled. Were they crazy or what?!

     “Just trust us!”

     If they couldn’t trust them now, they never would. The girls reluctantly followed their lead.

\-------

     Sure enough, the officer was on the other side of the alley, speaking privately to a woman. Four panicked people—two in handcuffs and covered in various unidentified substances—came running toward them and stumbled to a stop.

     “Officer!”

     “We need your help!”

     “There’s two men back there—"

     “—with guns.”

     “And drugs.”

     “And there’s a suitcase, and—”

     “One of ‘em’s big and the other is small.”

     “The men, not the suitcase.”

     “HOLD ON!” the officer yelled, and suddenly they were quiet. He raised his palms. “Not everyone at once.”

     Al took a moment to catch his breath. “Officer, there’s two bozos trying to kill us. We need you to arrest them.”

     Looking Al up and down, the policeman noted the jelly-covered sheets and the handcuffs. He lowered his sunglasses. “I see.”

     “It’s a long story,” Sam said with chagrin.

     It didn’t matter how insane they looked. This leap from hell was finally coming to a close! He couldn’t wait to get out of this stupid Hawaiian shirt and into someplace with a shower. Al was thinking the same thing; his opinion on this leap had changed a lot since they’d arrived. And he liked Sam and all, but he was ready to not be attached to him anymore. They glanced at each other, the relief evident in their eyes. Pretty soon they’d be engulfed in blue and ka-za-ZOOM! Outta here!

     Suddenly, they were being turned around.

     “I bet. You’re under arrest.”

     Four voices rose up with wild surprise. “What?!”

     “You’re arresting _us_?!” Al questioned disbelievingly, “We’re the victims!”

     “Don’t think you’re fooling me.” The cuffs were already present, so he opted to grab them by the collars to lead them away. “We received multiple complaints today about two Americans matching your description running some sort of money scam. We have a lot of questions for you.”

     “But we’re telling the truth!” Sam insisted, “Someone’s trying to kill us!”

     “It’s true!” Margarita chimed in, jogging in front of them. They came to a stop. “Those men are trying to kill us too.” No way was she gonna let them go without a fight.

     “Come to think of it,” the officer said suspiciously, “We’ve gotten a lot of reports about a pair of twins robbing people too…” He looked her up and down.

     This set Margarita off. She began to argue with him in Spanish. The more her temper flared, the louder she got, and eventually her sister joined in. Sam and Al found themselves stuck between three furious Mexicans, being pushed and pulled back and forth.

     “I thought you said this would work!” Al griped at Gooshie, who was punching at the handlink, “Boy, Ziggy chooses the worst times to be wrong!”

     “She gave it a 56.4%,” Gooshie corrected, which earned him a glare from both of them. He shook his head at the handlink and frowned, puzzled. “But according to this, you’re still successful. I don’t understand. Jeff Maclean and Darren Huddleson return to America, Yolanda and Margarita Escamilla live, and Mateo Noguera is put away for two life sentences connected to a previously unsolved murder.”

     From the perspective of two people in cuffs, this seemed a tad contradictory to their situation. It was odd to hear the happy wrap up when things hadn’t actually wrapped up. So why were things going so poorly?

     Sam squinted with confusion. “What?!”

     “Uh, I dunno if you noticed, Goosh, but we’re being arrested!”

     “Wait!” Yolanda threw up her hands, stepping between her heated sister, Sam and Al, and the officer. “Before you take them in, I have to show you something.” Reaching into her purse, she pulled out the polaroids, a stack of cash, and a bag of cocaine. “How would you like to catch someone bigger than us?”

     Sam and Al gaped. Evidently she’d been forward thinking enough to take some collateral, and her need to help overrode her worry of being arrested herself. She was going to get these men out of the cuffs she put them in, come hell or high water.

     Sam couldn’t help but grin proudly. Things had worked out because they didn’t need to do anything anymore. Yolanda and Margarita were here to save them.

     As it turned out, Ziggy was right after all.

\-------

     It was satisfying to see Mateo Noguera and his flunky being placed into the patrol car, but not nearly as satisfying as the thought of getting into some fresh clothes. They wouldn’t miss smell of sweat, chocolate, and strawberry jam. And some aloe vera lotion sounded pretty good right about now too.

     But, they were in good spirits. Rubbing his freed wrist, Al grinned at Sam. “See? What’d I tell ya? We just needed a vacation.”

     “You were right. But you know what?” Sam put a friendly hand on his shoulder. “I think I’m ready to get back to work.”

     Rolling his eyes playfully, Al responded, “That sounds like the Sam I know.”

     “Well if it isn’t our heroes?” Margarita laughed as she and her sister approached.

     “As I recall,” Sam said in thought, calling back to her own words, “it was _you_ saving _us.”_

     “We’ll call it even then,” Yolanda said with a smirk. She cocked her head with a twinkle in her eye.

     They might have been scam artists, but in the end they were good people. And Sam didn’t feel so bad about what had transpired now, because there could be worse things than falling for someone who was good at heart. Maybe his intuition wasn’t as bad as he’d thought.

     With a considering look, Margarita pulled at Al’s sheet. “The look suits you, you know. But maybe you’d like your old clothes back?”

     “Sweetheart…” Al lowered his eyes suggestively. “I don’t need to wear anything at all.”

     Sam rolled his eyes. Al never changed.

     “We’re going to miss you, you know,” Yolanda said sincerely. Sam smiled. It felt nice to hear. “You showed us that there’s some good guys out there after all. And who knows?” She shrugged one shoulder. “Maybe we’ll try going straight for a while.”

     Despite their turnaround, Sam couldn’t help but be a little skeptical. “How do we know you’re telling the truth?”

     Yolanda shot her sister a knowing look. She shrugged at Sam and winked. “Trust us.”

     On their smiling faces, the world turned blue, then white, then disappeared.


	5. Chapter 5

     The crack of thunder was so loud, it rattled the windows. The door blasted open as a soaking wet Sam and Al came rushing in from the storm. It took only a moment of searching before they heard footsteps and spotted who they were looking for rushing up the spiraled steps of the old radio station.

     “There he is, Sam!”

     Instantly, Sam was darting toward the staircase. “Make sure the record’s on!”

     Sam went up, Al went forward. This leap had been…bizarre. Things had seemed so simple, but they knew by now that meant it was probably very complicated. The objective: save a relationship between a shy kid named Simon and his on-and-off girlfriend Felicia. In the original history, this was their last breakup and both of them never found love again. It was beautiful really, that they just needed a reminder of why they loved each other in the first place. Still, nothing seemed to add up. Everything they affected seemed to change at random and they couldn’t puzzle out why. Finally, Ziggy calculated they could save the leap if Simon and Felicia heard the song they first danced to. Odds were 82.7% that they would hear the song, fall in love again, and stick together this time.

     And then they realized someone wasn’t following the script at all. Everywhere they’d turned, Simon’s best friend Jake had been mucking things up. Getting in their heads, planting the seeds of doubt. It took them the whole leap, but they finally saw that he was the element that didn’t match history.

     And that could only mean one thing. It was time to pull off Jake’s mask.

     Sam found him on the roof, bat ready to bash in the satellite. “Stop!” Jake glanced over his shoulder. Sam frowned. “Why’re you doing this?”

     “Nothing personal, kid.”

     He raised the bat. Sam lunged at him and they came sliding to the ground in the rain. They began to grapple for the bat.

     Al made it to the roof in time to see sparks fly and Jake transform into his exact double.

     Oh _no._

     “Sam!”

     If his other half was involved, so were the evil leapers. And they hadn’t exactly ended their last leap together on the best of terms. Sam and Calavicci stared at each other in shock. “You!” they said together.

     Calavicci shoved him off and scrambled to his feet. Sam got into a fighting stance, ready to defend himself. This other Al was volatile, unpredictable, and, this time, had more personal reasons to want to kill him. Sam could only surmise that their presence had been as much of a surprise to him, because if he’d known it was Sam and Al on this leap, things would have gotten bloody. Maybe they still would.

     And truthfully…Sam wasn’t sure it was undeserved.

     Calavicci tossed the bat aside. Sam furrowed his brows. The other man made no other move.

     “Get me outta here,” he ordered to someone unseen.

     Why wasn’t he attacking? Was he just going to give the leap to them? That seemed entirely out of character for someone who had tried to kill them more than once. Sam wasn’t sure what to do.

     Al felt like he was going nuts. Why was Sam just standing there?! He was gonna get himself killed. He pushed his wet hair out of his face and wiped his eyes. Seeing the bat roll nearby, he gauged how quickly he could get to it before being noticed.

     A red glow began to permeate around the other leaper, who simply watched Sam with narrowed eyes. Sam was keenly aware of the Al behind him and in front of him, but he didn’t want to take the offensive. He lowered his fists. The other Al was going to be gone and, in a moment, so would they. As the song began to broadcast, a blue glow surrounded Sam and Al.

     Suddenly, there was a loud _BOOM_ and a bolt of lightning came down from the heavens, surrounding Sam and the other leaper.

     “SAM!”

     The light was so blinding Al had to close his eyes.

\-------

     When he opened them, he was standing next to a truck in the day time, completely dry. With confusion, he looked down at the stack of blankets in his hands.

     Someone fell to the ground behind him. He whipped around. Sam was flat on his butt, halfway in the street.

     Al breathed a sigh of relief. He thought for sure something had happened to him. “Oh thank god,” he breathed, setting the blankets in the truck bed and making his way over, “I was worried for a second there! You okay, Sam?”

     He reached out to help him up, but Sam scrambled back. He was breathing heavily, eyes darting everywhere in panic. “What the hell happened?!”

     Al jumped back in surprise and lifted his palms. “It’s okay, Sam. We leaped. I think you just got a bit of a shock.”

     For the first time, Sam really met his eyes and a look of realization dawned on him. His pupils slit as he grabbed the back of the truck, dragging himself to his feet. He seemed to have trouble standing. “You’re the other one. And I’m…” He gazed around the small town that surrounded them and knit his eyebrows together. “…I’m out.”

     Now Al saw who it really was, but that was impossible. He stared in disbelief. “You died.”

     “…almost.”

     No. No, no, no. Not this Sam, not again! He wasn’t sure he could take another leap with him, could handle the constant grief and misery he brought. He didn’t know how he survived that fall, but right now he didn’t care. He and his Sam had to…

     His chest tightened as what happened hit him like Muhammad Ali. The lightning strike. It had switched them. He took a staggered step forward.

     “Wait a minute. If you’re here…where the hell is Sam?”

\-------

     Hot white faded into cold black, and Sam found himself standing in complete darkness. The room was silent. Felt empty. The only sound was his breathing.

     Something was in his hand. He lifted it up, the only bit of light in the room. A glowing triangle with blinking lights. He furrowed his brows as he tried to figure out what it was.

     The sound of humming machinery. A runway of red light suddenly appeared, leading the way to a single red door with a familiar shape. The door slid up, and a velvety voice filled the room with a terrifying, dulcet tone.

     “We’re waiting, Samuel.”


End file.
